The Scars of a Broken Heart
by lesbianshipperxoxo
Summary: After a horrific event happens to Santana, Brittany tries to put the pieces of her girlfriend back together. The only question is, will Santana let her?
1. Chapter 1

Santana Lopez was a very punctual person. It didn't matter what it was for- class, Cheerios, Glee, family dinners, she was always on time. She hated being late, and people who were consistently late pissed her off. Brittany was the exception to that, of course.

Brittany was pretty much the exact opposite of Santana in that aspect. It probably had to do with her naive attitude, but she was like a child. Everything distracted her- candy, rainbows, babies. So she usually had a hard time getting places on time. Santana was used to it. Whenever Brittany was late for a date, she just kicked back and relaxing, knowing Brittany would show up in her own time. And sure enough, she was right- Brittany never forgot a date, she just always had a little trouble getting there. After a while, whether it was five minutes or two hours, she always showed up.

So when Santana was a half an hour late to meet Brittany for their date at Breadstix, the blonde girl was reasonably worried. She was used to being the late one, not the one waiting, and she was concerned.

She took out her phone after ten minutes of wait, texting the Latina.

**Brittany: Hey, San, where are you?**

She started playing Angry Birds after texting Santana to pass the time. After she didn't get a response for fifteen minutes she went back in to text Santana again. That was another uncharacteristic thing for Santana- she always had her phone on her, and she always texted back.

She could see on the screen that the message had been read, but yet she had gotten no response.

**Brittany: Why didn't you text back? Are you mad? :(**

Five minutes passed without a response.

**Brittany: I'm sorry for whatever I did.**

Another three.

**Brittany: Santana, you're starting to scare me.**  
**Brittany: I'm coming over.**

She jumped up, gathering her stuff and absentmindedly throwing a 50 dollar bill on the table as she left Breadstix and headed to her car. The girls had eaten at Breadstix and then gone over to Santana's house to make out so many times, the route was relatively easy to remember, even for Brittany who was terrible with directions and driving in general. She could probably drive there with her eyes closed.

"Santana!" Brittany got out of the car, heading up to the front door and knocking on it. "Santana, open up!" She frowned when no one answered. What with Santana's mom and stepdad and all of those brothers of hers living there in addition to Santana herself, there was _always_ someone around to open the door when she came over.

Luckily, Brittany remembered she still had the key to the Lopezes' house that Santana had made for her. Santana had insisted at first that Brittany give her a key to the Pierces' house in case something bad happened and she needed to get in, and then had agreed to give Brittany a key to Santana's house just so she wouldn't feel left out. The ironic thing was, Santana had never had reason to use her key to Brittany's house, while she had never assumed Brittany would have the need to use the key she had made for the blonde.

Brittany set her backpack on the ground, kneeling down and beginning to root through it. She had to shift past all the papers and candy wrappers and old gum packs (Santana had told her just the other day that they needed to clean out Brittany's bag together soon, but they hadn't found the time to do it yet) before finally finding the key with the big S engraved on the side of it, holding it up and smiling triumphantly.

Brittany slipped the key into the lock, pushing the door open. She grabbed her bag, heading into the house. It didn't seem like anybody was around, but yet she had seen Santana's car in the driveway.

"Santana?"

She headed down the hallway toward Santana's room, pushing the door open and stepping in cautiously. And that was when she saw her.

Lying on the bed, Santana looked nothing like the clean, pristine, put-together Santana Lopez Brittany knew.

That Santana's hair was always neatly brushed and pulled back into a high pony, makeup carefully done, Cheerios uniform not with so much as a wrinkle in it.

This Santana's hair was not only down (Coach Sylvester would probably have a heart attack if she saw Santana like that, Brittany thought,) but it was messy. It kinda looked like post-sex hair, but weren't people always happy after sex? And why would Santana have sex with anyone but Brittany? They were in unicorn together- ever since Santana had finally decided that sex _was_ indeed dating, they had agreed not to have sex with anyone else but each other. It didn't feel as good when Brittany had sex with someone she didn't have feelings for, anyways. There were bruises on her face, arms, and legs, and her Cheerios uniform looked like it had been ripped.

"Santana? W-what happened?" Brittany asked, cautiously making her way towards the bed.

"Go away, Brittany," Santana whispered in a husky voice, looking up at Brittany momentarily before hiding her face. "Go home. I don't want you to see me like this."

"I'm your girlfriend. Why can't I see you like this?" She inquired, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. "You always protect me and defend me when people call me stupid. Why can't I help you when you're hurt?"

Santana started crying again at that, and Brittany moved forward, wrapping her arms around the Latina and gently stroking her hair. "Please just tell me what happened," she pleaded softly. "Let me help you."

"B-Brittany," Santana sobbed. "He just came in here, and... I-I tried to stop him, I did. I kicked and I hit and I bit, but i-it wasn't enough. It just made him more angry. He took my clothes off- he ripped my uniform in the process, and he was so_ big_, and it hurt, but no matter how much I screamed, no one came to help me. No one rescued me."

Brittany frowned, trying to think of something to say to Santana. "I think you should tell someone," she said honestly. Sure, maybe telling the Latina that she should tattle to an adult wasn't the best method for cheering her up, but it was probably the right thing to do in this situation. "My mom always tells me that I should tell an adult if someone touches me and I don't like it." She pressed a soft kiss to Santana's cheek, comfortingly running her thumb over one of the big purple bruises on Santana's arm, trying to comfort her. Santana relaxed a little against Brittany's embrace. "You should tell your mom and stepdad! I'm sure they'll understand."

"No!" Santana sat up again, all traces of ease gone from her face. "I'm not telling them, Brittany. It's my fault- if I weren't g-gay, then he wouldn't have done it. This isn't right, Britt- you and me. It's not natural."

"What?" Brittany's eyes widened with hurt. "You don't mean that."

Santana sighed, hating the feeling of guilt that washed over her when she saw Brittany looking like a kicked puppy. It broke her heart. "You're right. I'm sorry, B, I don't know what I was thinking. Nothing has ever felt more right in my life than being with you."

"I forgive you. Just- who was it?"

"I'm not telling you that."

"But please-"

"I'm not telling you!" Santana screamed, and Brittany jumped, heart racing. Santana never yelled at her, she never even so much as made one of her classic bitch faces at Brittany. She was the one person who Santana was consistently nice to. "Just leave!"

She didn't want to leave, but she was scared, and she didn't really know what else to do. She jumped up, glancing back at Santana once as she made a break for the door.

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	2. Chapter 2

"_Mija,_ are you feeling okay?" Maribel Lopez asked Santana.

It had been three days since she had been raped. Brittany had spent the majority of those three days calling and texting Santana, trying to get her to open up, to let her in, but she wouldn't let her. Santana wasn't good with feelings. She wasn't down to just open up and spill her guts to Brittany like some extra-cheesy, R rated version of an episode of Barney. And Brittany was too beautiful, too pure, too innocent. That was a big part of why Santana loved her so much in the first place. She didn't want to mess that all up.

"I'm fine." She didn't even look up as she spoke, simply taking another bite of her rice.

"Are you having any difficulties at school?" Her stepfather asked. She rolled her eyes at him, which he chose to ignore. "Are the kids picking on you? Is the work starting to get too hard? What's going on?"

"Don't be fucking stupid."

"Santana!" Maribel admonished her daughter, but Santana ignored her, continuing to speak.

"No one would dare bully me unless they wants to become close friends with my fist. I have an epic left hook." She stood up, beginning to gather the dishes, since it was her night to wash them.

"_Mi amor_." Maribel stood up, gently touching her daughter's arm. The Latina began to shake from the contact, face flushing. Her mother laid a hand against her forehead, judging the warmth in her skin to be caused by illness instead of panic. "_Vaya acostarse._ I'll take care of the dishes tonight."

"Whatever." Santana set the dishes that she had been collecting back down on the table, turning around and heading to her room.

What she wasn't expecting was to see Brittany sitting on Santana's bed, waiting for Santana to come back, she guessed. Judging from the open window and the dirt on Brittany's arms from scaling the side of the Lopezes' house, it wasn't hard to figure out how she had gotten in without anyone noticing. Using her key would've been too obvious. She couldn't just strut into the house like she owned the place while the family was eating dinner, after all. And she needed the element of surprise on her side if she was gonna break through to Santana.

The dark haired girl couldn't help but chuckle a little, shaking her head in amusement as she stared at Brittany, examining what the girl was wearing. Apparently, she had taken this 'break into Santana's house' adventure as a spy mission, and from the looks of things she had taken it _very_ seriously. She was wearing jeans, black Converse, and a black hoodie. Her hair had been put into a ponytail and then hidden by the hood of her hoodie.

"Brittany. You can't just come over here whenever you feel like it," Santana sighed. This was _her_ home, this was_ her_ room, this was _her_ bed. So why was she the one feeling like the outsider, what with the disapproving way Brittany was looking at her?

"But it's important!" Brittany insisted.

"What, like the time Lord Tubbs accidentally drank two bowls of water instead of one?"

"That was serious, Santana! He could've gotten, um- what's the word for it... oh yeah, dehydrated!"

"You get dehydrated if you don't have enough water, Britt, not too much."

"Oh, yeah- big words confuse me."

"Big surprise," Santana muttered.

"Listen- I think we should talk," Brittany said, standing up.

"What's there to talk about?" Santana asked, but she just sounded defeated instead of angry now. "It happened. It's over. Someone- someone just violated me, and no matter what we do, we're never gonna be able to erase that. We're never gonna be able to fix that, and the more you keep bringing this up and trying to solve things, the more I'm gonna end up hurt. So why don't you just leave it alone?"

"It's happened to me before."

Santana's eyes widened. She definitely hadn't been expecting that. "What? How? W-when?"

"Cheer camp. Don't you remember? He just climbed into my tent. I didn't even invite him in, and he... he raped me."

"I thought you had just been joking about that." Suddenly, Santana was feeling very faint. Well, this day had taken an unexpected turn. She sat down weakly on the bed. "But you told me Mike Chang was your first."

Brittany shrugged her shoulders. "I lied."

"Why did you never tell me about this? I could've kicked his ass for you! I could've protected you!"

"The same reason you're refusing to tell anyone about what happened to you now- I was ashamed. And embarrassed. And I thought that if I was stronger, if I wasn't so stupid, if I was a genius like you, maybe he wouldn't have done it to me."

"You're not stupid, Brittany," Santana said firmly, heart melting all at once. The block of ice she had built up around her heart in the last few days to protect herself was now nothing more than a puddle of water. "You're the smartest person I've ever met. And you're almost the kindest, sweetest, most beautiful girl I've ever known. You didn't deserve for that to happen to you."

"I know. After having a couple of years to think about it, I've realized that... I_ didn't_ deserve it. I didn't do anything wrong. You didn't deserve what happened to you, either, you know," she said gently, sitting back down onto the bed.

"Yeah..." the Latina whispered, although she wasn't so sure she believed that. She wasn't like Brittany. She wasn't a good person. On the contrary, she was a very bad person, and if anyone deserved their fate it was Santana.

"Please, just let me help you, Tana," Brittany told her, lacing their fingers back together. "I love you. I wanna help you. But you need to let me in first."

"You can't help me until you know who it was first."

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